Chapter 15
“That was something.”
I turn around to find Dolly standing in the doorway of the kitchen with her arms crossed, a small smile on her face.
“How long were you listening?”
“Long enough.” She walks over and squeezes my shoulder. “You did good, sugar.”
“Did I? Because I feel like I might throw up.”
“Well, that’s how you know you made the right choice, because the wrong ones always feel easy.” She heads behind the bar and pours me a glass of water. “Now, sit down before you fall down.”
I collapse onto the stool, my legs suddenly weak. “Three point five million,” I say to no one in particular. “I just turned down three point five million.”
“You turned down a lot more than that. You turned down the easy way out, the path that would have let you run from everything messy and complicated.” Dolly sets the water in front of me. “Mavis would be so proud.”
“Mavis never had to choose between financial ruin and doing the right thing.”
“Well, actually, she did. Several times. First time was when she left Atlanta, walked away from the family money, from her inheritance, from everything she was supposed to be, and came here with nothing but what she could fit in her car.” Dolly leans against the bar.
“She told me once it was the scariest thing she ever did, but also the best.”
I take a sip of water, trying to calm my racing heart. “Gary said they’re not giving up, that they’ll find other ways.”
“Oh, I’m sure they will. Men like him always do.” Dolly shrugs. “But that’s a problem for another day. Today, you stood up for this place, for all of us, and that matters.”
“I just hope I didn’t make everything worse.”
“Honey, you can’t make the right choice and have it turn out wrong. It just doesn’t work that way.”
I’m still standing in the bar an hour later, staring at my water glass and second-guessing every decision I’ve ever made, when the front door opens.
Wyatt.
He stops when he sees me, his hand still on the door. We haven’t been alone in a room since our fight, and the tension is immediate and suffocating.
“I heard what happened,” he finally says.
Of course he did, because this is Copper Creek. Word probably spread before Gary’s Mercedes even left the parking lot.
“From Dolly?”
“From half the town.” He lets the door close behind him and takes a few steps closer, but still keeps his distance. “So it’s true? You told him no?”
“I told him no.”
Something in his expression shifts, maybe relief or surprise. He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I’ve come to recognize as his way of buying time to figure out what to say next.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you say no? Three and a half million dollars, Eleanor. That’s big money.”
“I know what it is.”
“So why?”
I look at him, standing there in his worn jeans and flannel shirt, guarded and careful, trying not to hope. And I realize he needs to hear this. Not for the bar, not for Copper Creek, but for him.
“Because he was wrong,” I say, “about all of it. He said I don’t belong here, that I’m playing at being a small-town bar owner, and that people like me don’t stay in places like this.
And I realized something. He’s right that I’m not who I was in Atlanta anymore, but he’s wrong that I don’t belong here.
” I stand up, needing to move to get the nervous energy out of my body.
“I belong here more than I ever belonged there. And yes, this place is messy and complicated, and I have no idea what I’m doing half the time, but it’s real, and the people are real.
This,” I gesture around The Rusty Spur, “is real.”
Wyatt takes another step closer. “And what about us?”
The question hangs in the air like a thick fog.
“That’s real too,” I say quietly, “and I wasn’t willing to sell that for any amount of money.
But I don’t appreciate the pressure you put on me.
It was very hard to pull my feelings for you…
for us… out of the equation so I could make a decision.
The whole point of all of this is to make my own decisions, Wyatt.
To stop living the life other people want for me. ”
He closes the distance between us in three long strides, and suddenly his hands are cupping my face, and he’s looking at me with those blue eyes full of something that makes my breath hitch in my throat.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “for what I said the other day about you looking for an exit. It wasn’t fair.”
“You were scared.”
“I was terrified because I’m…” he stops and swallows hard. “I’m falling for you, Eleanor. Have been since you rode that mechanical bull like you never had fun in your whole life. And the thought of you leaving and of selling this place and going back to Atlanta—”
“I’m not going back to Atlanta.”
“You’re staying?”
It’s the question, the one everyone’s been dancing around.
“I don’t know about October yet,” I admit.
“I don’t know if I can make this work long-term or if I can actually run a bar.
If I could build a life here. But I know I’m not selling, and I want to try.
And I know…” I take a breath and gather courage.
“I know I’m falling for you, too. That scares me more than anything Gary Allen said. ”
A smile breaks across Wyatt’s face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” His thumb brushes across my cheekbone. “Because I was really hoping I hadn’t screwed this up completely.
“You didn’t screw it up. I did. I should have told you about the offer right away.”
“We both messed up.” He leans his forehead against mine, and we stand there breathing the same air. “But we’re okay?”
“We’re okay.”
“Good, because I’d really like to kiss you right now, but I’m trying to respect the whole ‘taking it slow’ thing we agreed on.”
My heart is racing, and every nerve in my body is screaming at me to close the distance and forget about being smart and careful.
But Wyatt’s right. We made an agreement.
We decided to wait until I was sure. And I’m not sure yet.
Not about October, not about my future, not about whether I can make a life in Copper Creek like Mavis did.
But I’m sure about this moment. About him. About us.
“Just a few more months,” I say. “Until October, until I have to decide.”
“A few more months,” he agrees.
* * *
That evening, The Rusty Spur fills up like it always does on Friday nights, but tonight feels different. People keep coming up to me, regulars I barely know, faces I recognize from the potluck, people who’ve said maybe ten words to me total. They’re all saying some version of the same thing.
“Heard what you did.”
“Thank you for standing up to that developer.”
“Mavis would be proud.”
By ten o’clock, I’ve been hugged more times than I can count, offered more drinks than I can accept, and pulled into at least three conversations about Gary Allen.
Pastor Dale shows up around ten thirty with Ruthie, which is unusual because they don’t usually come out on Friday nights.
“Eleanor,” he says, extending his hand. When I shake it, he covers my hand with his other one. “I wanted to thank you personally. What you did today, standing up to that developer, well, that took a lot of courage.”
“I just said no to an offer.”
“You did more than that. You chose this community over your own financial gain. That’s no small thing.”
Ruthie nods beside him. “If there’s anything we can do to help you, anything you need, you just let us know. The church, the congregation, we’re all rooting for you.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
After they leave, I stand behind the bar helping Presley pour drinks, and I watch the crowd. The regulars. The families. The couples dancing to the jukebox. A group of twenty-somethings celebrating someone’s birthday.
This is what Gary Allen wanted to buy. Not just the building or the land, but this. The community. The people. The feeling of belonging. And he was willing to pay three point five million for it, but it was never his to buy.
At closing time, after everyone has gone home and the last glass has been washed and the floor swept clean, Wyatt and I are on the back deck like we always are. He’s got his sweet tea. I’ve got mine. The stars are out in full force, and the mountains are dark silhouettes in the distance.
“Long day,” he says.
“Longest of my life.”
“You holding up okay?”
I think about the question, really think about it. “Actually, yeah, I am.”
“No regrets?”
“Ask me tomorrow when the adrenaline wears off.” I lean back in my chair and look up at the stars. “But right now, no regrets.”
We sit in silence for a while, then Wyatt says, “What do you think he meant when Gary said they’d find other ways?”
“I don’t know, but Dolly said something similar, that men like him don’t give up easily.”
“Well, we’ll deal with it if it comes up.”
“We?” I repeat.
He looks at me. “Yeah, we. You’re not doing this alone anymore, Eleanor. Whether you stay or go in October, whether you sell or keep the place, whether Gary Allen comes back or not, you’ve got people here. You’ve got me. And we’re not going anywhere, even if you do.”
There’s something comforting about knowing I now have “people”. Even if I leave in October, my people will be here in Copper Creek.
My throat tightens. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not giving up on me, even when I was being an idiot and considering that stupid offer.”
“You weren’t being an idiot. You were being practical. There’s a difference.” He reaches over and takes my hand. “Besides, I kind of like it when you’re human and figuring things out. It looks good on you.”
I laugh. “Human. That’s what you’re going with?”
“Well, better than being pristine and perfect, right?”
He’s right. It is better. Everything about this life, this messy, complicated, uncertain life I’m building in Copper Creek, is better than the pristine, careful, perfect, empty life I left behind.
I just hope I have the courage to choose it when October comes.
* * *